


Under the Blood Moon's Shadow

by SterlingAg



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Death, Efendi Aomine, F/M, Ghosts, Harems, Humiliation, M/M, Master Thief Kuroko, Mild Gore, Public humilation, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Sexual Content, Vigilantism, Violence, depictions of violence, generation of miracles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingAg/pseuds/SterlingAg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Algorthi used to be a quiet desert town ruled by a fair yet powerful Sultan. But after his son staged a rebellion and took the title for himself, everything changed. Now the town lives in fear of the man who's bloodlust is so great he even stained the moon red. But the underground group of heroes called the Generation of Miracles won't take the tyranny lying down. When one of the Generation is arrested and up for execution, Kuroko the Desert Fox will use all of his skills to save his comrade. No matter what it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started to watch Kuroko no Basuke. What else is there to say really? Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> ABOUT THE NON-CON TAG:
> 
> Please read this! I have included the non-con tag because there are mentions of forced intercourse. Unless I write a scene in which rape/non-con is explicitly happening and not "off-screen" I will call them "non-con elements."
> 
> I do not want anyone to be uncomfortable because of a curveball. But a character in this fic is very dark and has a very twisted personality. There are things that will probably offend people and I will tag them as best I can. If there is something you see that you think needs to be tagged, PLEASE TELL ME AND I WILL GLADLY ADD THE TAG. It takes a village guys!

“Don’t let that rat get away!” Yelled the head of the Royal Guards. His voice boomed in the air and reverberated off the clay buildings around him. The footfalls of the guards as they stormed after their mark joined the surprised shouts of citizens as they were bumped and jostled in the chase. 

“Thief! Stop him!” 

The marketplace was quickly thrown in to chaos. People cried out as the guards pushed past. Guards searched stalls which caused vendors to use some strong words. Children were crying in fear and mothers were trying to comfort them. But even so, it was as if the burglar had vanished in to thin air.

When informed of this, the head of the Guards’ face became an angry red.

“How can that be? We have men on every corner!” He yelled, his fury only deepened, “Search harder! I want this bastard’s head!” His teeth ground uncomfortably as he growled in his throat. He threw down the rag in his hand that the thief had dropped. The article barely missed hitting a person as they walked by the man. The head sneered at them and they bowed their head in apology and quickly scurried past.

The noises of the chaotic marketplace faded away as the person walked down the sandy roads. The person who had nearly run in to the head of the Guards was walking calmly. But his heart was racing and sweat dripped down the side of his face. Running had never been his strong point—any physical activity really. That had been an uncomfortably close call. 

He pulled his hood down and inhaled the arid, desert air deep in to his lungs. In the shadows, he tilted his head up to look at the sinking sun. His blue eyes squinted against the sun. A gentle wind ruffled his light coloured hair and cooled his skin slightly. The newly acquired bounty hung heavy on his belt. The coin purse was full again but he wouldn’t be able to buy more supplies for a couple days. The guard would stick around the marketplace to keep an eye out for him. They were always hoping he would slip up. But he never did and he never would.

His name was Kuroko the Desert Fox and he was the best thief on the entire continent—maybe even the entire world.

Kuroko shivered as dusk quickly fell. He needed to get back to his home. It wasn’t a good idea to be outside during the nighttime. Ghosts walked the streets of the city when the moon ruled the sky. His footsteps were muffled by the sand as he began to walk once more. Soon the Blood Moon would be in the sky and the land would be covered in scarlet.

 

The prince stood on his balcony. His robes swished about him as the night winds blew. He tilted his head up to gaze upon the moon. Its cratered surface was tinted red—the Blood Moon. It reflected deep red across the land and blanketed every building. The prince closed his eyes and tuned his ears towards the city below him. At first it was just a low noise, something like a gentle groan of an ailing body. Then sound gathered more strength and was easily heard. The prince’s lips thinned and turned up in to a predatory smile. Screams and wails soon lifted in to the night air. They were the lamentations of those spirits who roamed the streets under the Blood Moon. What a wondrous sound, the prince thought. He supposed that was his favorite thing about this place. For every person that he killed on the sand—for every ounce of blood that he spilt on that earth—another voice would join and strengthen the chorus of the dead at night. 

The prince opened his eyes and moved to the edge of his balcony. He leaned over the railing, resting his forearms on the marble. His dark eyes reflected crimson in the moon’s light. The ghosts below him were ethereal and definitely of another world. No one knew where they came from—since the beginning of the town’s creation ghosts had ruled the night. They were not benevolent spirits and never actively attacked anyone. But if one should come in to contact with a spirit, they would immediately fall ill and die in seven days. It was not contagious but there was no cure. The disease was affectionately called Death Walking by those in the town.

The spirits weren’t quite shapeless but they didn’t have distinguishing features. They were just generically human-like forms that were a translucent, sickly green. They had no faces. The prince’s eyebrow rose quizzically as he watched one of the spirits stop and stand just under his balcony for a moment. Then the spirit turned slowly towards the balcony and tilted its head up. If the ghosts had had faces, the prince supposed that spirit would be looking straight at him. The prince felt the corner of his mouth pull up in to a crooked grin.

“Are you supposed to be my father?” He called down to the spirit. The spirit did not respond, as they never do. The prince lowered his head and rested his chin on his crossed arms.

“You’re dead, you know,” he called again, “I killed you,” he taunted. The spirit continued to stare before his form wavered slightly. It turned away and began to drift down the streets of the city.  
The prince’s grin widened in to a full-fledged smile. Then his body shook with his full laughter. Among the groans of the ghosts was now the darkened sound of his laughter. 

Five years ago, the prince had staged a coup d’état like no other. It was the most violent of rebellions that the continent had ever seen. He had gathered a small number of people to rally behind him and they had overtaken the palace. They had killed everyone—noblemen, visiting dignitaries, even the attendants and handmaids. No one made it out alive that night. After beheading the sultan and claiming the throne as his own, the prince even turned on his comrades. With the treason passed, there was no use for traitors. Their blood soon joined the blood that stained the river and even the moon red. 

What a glorious day that had been. The memory made the prince shiver and grin. His fingers tightened his grip around the railing. For weeks the palace had smelled of blood and the scent had been better than any expensive incense. Even now the metallic taste coated his tongue in remembrance. He was brought out of his reverie as the door to his chambers opened.

“Efendi,” called the attendant, “Your woman for the night is ready for you. How do you plan to use her? Shall I send her to the usual chambers?”

The prince thought of this for a moment. While he was always in the mood to have a woman, tonight he had a different kind of thirst.

“She is a virgin?”

The attendant nodded, “As you always request, Efendi.”

“Good,” his lips thinned in to a feral grin, “I want to bathe in her blood.”

The attendant bowed deeply, “As you desire, Efendi. I shall go ready the baths.”

The attendant left the room, leaving the door open for the prince to follow when he was ready. The prince cast another look at the city stained scarlet by the moon’s light. There was no doubt that his kingdom was the most beautiful of all. When he turned and left his balcony, the screams of the ghosts below created a grand orchestra in the desert air.

 

Kuroko was awoken the next morning by frantic knocking on his door.

“Kuroko! Kuroko please!” Called a woman at his door. He frowned and blinked the sleep from his eyes. A tunic was draped over the back of a chair. He pulled it on over the loose pair of pants he had warn to bed. He knew his hair was a mess, but he honestly couldn’t be bothered abut that now. The bolt slid out with a slight screech of iron on iron. The door swung open when he pulled the handle.

The woman outside his door flung herself at him and she clung to his tunic.

“Momoi?” Kuroko mumbled. She wept against him.

“Kuroko! It’s terrible!” She wailed, “K-Kise—he’s—“

He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back.

“Speak clearly. What’s happened to Kise?”

Momoi nodded and swallowed hard. Her voice wavered when she spoke again.

“Kise has been smuggling virgins out before the mirza could call them to his harem. Th-The Guards—he’s been caught,” her composer broke once again, “They’ll kill him! You have to do –something Kuroko!”

Kuroko didn’t wait to hear anymore. He moved past Momoi and rushed in to the streets. He hurried towards the center of the marketplace where criminals were collected to be taken to the dungeons. Kuroko moved unnoticed, never once drawing attention to himself. There was already a crowd gathered when Kuroko arrived. Women cried as their husbands and sons were arrested for various crimes. Many of them were petty thefts and public drunkenness. These only had a punishment of maybe a few days in the dungeons. Kuroko had been to the dungeons before—he hadn’t always been as good as he was now. Really it was nothing to create such a fuss over. But then Kuroko saw his mark.

On a raised platform there was a metal pole. This was where the more serious offenders were put on display. It was to serve as a reminder to the public that those who went against the mirza would be punished. There was one person on the pole today. His arms were behind his back and heavy irons adorned his wrist. Bruises were forming on his fair skin and cuts were also on his face and torso. Kuroko swallowed and clenched his fist. He stepped back to hide under the awning of a stall as the head of the Guards stepped on to the platform.

“Citizens of Algorthi!” He said over the crowd to draw their attention, “Once more we have found someone who thinks he lives above our Efendi’s laws.”

“That man is no Efendi,” the criminal growled. He raised his face to snarl at the Guard, “That monster is a tyrant!”

“Quiet!” The Guard roared as he punched the man in the face. The contact between fist and jaw made a sickening crunch sound. A few women in the crowd whimpered and even a few of the men flinched and turned their gazes away. The criminal kept his face turned from the force of the punch and slowly worked his jaw. He turned his face slightly to spit a wad of blood at the Guard’s feet. 

The Guard sneered and grabbed the man by his blonde hair that had been bleached by the sun. The Guard yanked the man’s head up by his hair and the criminal’s chest pulsed with angry and pained breaths. He breathed heavily through clenched and bloodied teeth. He opened his yellow eyes and glared down at the crowd gathered below him. His gaze fell on Kuroko who looked steadily back. The criminal’s eyebrows rose just the slightest bit and only for a moment before returning to his enraged expression.

“Ryouta Kise!” The Guard yelled once more, “Is charged with defying the Efendi’s will and also for suspicions of being in league with the Desert Fox and the Generation of Miracles!”

Gasps and excited whispers began among the crowd.

“The Desert Fox?”

“Isn’t that the master thief?”

“I heard he can disappear completely at will.”

“I’ve been told that the Generation of Miracles is going to overthrow the Efendi!”

“You mean we can finally be free again? Things will go back to the way they were?”

The Guard looked around frantically as the chatter spread through the crowd like wildfire. The guards stationed around the square began to get nervous. Were the people going to riot?

“He shall answer to the law just like everyone else! He is to be left here for three days and three nights before his execution. Anyone who gives the criminal food, water, or shelter from the sun will meet his same fate! Move the other criminals to the dungeons!” The Guard ordered before jumping down from the platform. The guards began to push the other criminals towards the palace. The crowd then began to disperse, some whispers still escaping between people’s lips. As soon as it had begun, things returned to normal and everyone was going about their daily lives. 

Kise let out a breath and felt his shoulders sink. His back and shoulders were already beginning to cramp. Luckily he had eaten before the guard had broken in to his house. How they had found him, he had no idea. But now it was even more dangerous for the Generation of Miracles to operate. After a couple minutes he looked back up. He chuckled slightly, causing his body to pull at his arms. It was a bit uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Kuroko was still there, standing in the shade of the awning. Kise stretched his lips in a small smile and flicked his head to the side, telling Kuroko to go. His eyes followed the movement as Kuroko’s jaw clenched in frustration. It was a bad situation for everyone and maybe in three days Kise would die. But they all knew the risks they were taking when they decided to create the Generation of Miracles. 

The Generation of Miracles was a small group of what some people would call vigilantes. There were five official members that carried the name. But there were many who supported them and even a few who worked closely with the Generation. Each of the five members of the Generation had a special skill or talent that they used to help the city of Algorthi. Ryouta Kise was a master of disguise and forging documents. Kuroko was the best at stealth and could go completely unnoticed. Satsuki Momoi, the only female member of the Generation, was the best strategist in the land. When the Generation pulled heists and larger stunts as a group, she planned everything down to the angle of the sun. Shintarou Midorima was an amazing marksman. He could hit a target from 100 feet away without any problem. The final and newest member of the Generation was a man named Taiga Kagami. Kagami was a powerhouse of strength and stamina. He could scale a 50 foot wall in under a minute without the use of any ropes. He performed most of the physically demanding tasks within the Generation.

The five of them together had worked against the Efendi’s tyranny since the Night the Rivers Ran Red. They were the people’s advocate and worked under the radar. If any of them got caught and could be proven as members of the Generation of Miracles, they would be executed on sight. No trials, no last words, nothing—just death. Each of them understood that, but they would rather risk their lives for the good of many. There had been many close calls when the Generation had almost been caught. But this was the first time that one of them had actually been captured. However, there was still hope. As of that point, there were only allegations to Kise being in cohorts with the Generation of Miracles. No one could prove that he was working with them, much less an actual member. That was why he was getting the Three Day Public Display, as Kagami liked to call it. His crime of smuggling people out was a direct obstruction of the Efendi’s will so he would be punished for it. 

Unless the Generation of Miracles did something about it.

Kuroko breathed slowly and evenly through his nose while he organized his thoughts. This was obviously a trap. If Kise was working with the Generation of Miracles, they would try to rescue their comrade. Guards were posted around the marketplace to watch Kise during the day. There was no way they could do it then, even with Kuroko’s stealth. Jobs were difficult to do in the daytime and needed to be planned very well to go off without any trouble. So that meant that the only time they would be able to do anything for Kise would be at night—when the spirits walked the earth. The Generation of Miracles knew exactly how dangerous working at night was. It had only been a few years since they had lost two of their members to Death Walking. The plan had been perfect, but even Momoi could only account for the randomness of the spirits so much. 

Kuroko’s nails bit in to his palm as he thought about the situation they were in. There was no other way—they would have to move at night. Either way, if they didn’t do anything soon, Kise would be dead in three days’ time. They wouldn’t be able to get any provisions to Kise at any time. It was too difficult to move goods around during the night. Also the guards would notice that Kise wasn’t being effected at all by his imprisonment and that could cause severe repercussions for the citizens. 

Kuroko looked up and calculated the position of the sun. Soon the sun’s harsh light would begin to dry out Kise’s body and warm the pole. His dehydrating skin would be weak to the heat of the pole. Burns and sores would begin to form on his skin. At that point, he ran risk of infection on top of dehydration and starvation. If the spirits didn’t touch him during the night for a guaranteed death, he would still have two days to go through that hell again. 

The blue haired man pulled his hood up over his head and blended back in to the crowd. He walked quickly back to his home. When he opened his door, Momoi stood from the chair she was sitting in. She looked tired and her red hair—nearly pink from the time in the sun—was a tangled mess. Her eyes were red and a little puffy from crying and her bottom lip was split from where she had been worrying at it.

“Kise,” she began, “Is he—?”

Kuroko shook his head, “Three Day Public Display.”

Momoi let out a relieved sigh. Her body deflated and she sank back down in to the chair.

“What are we going to do?” She asked softly.

“You’ll come up with something,” Kuroko answered. He moved past her and reached in to a pot that was sitting out for decoration. He pulled a lever in the bottom of it and a small click was heard. He knelt down at the base of the pot’s stand. He opened the hidden compartment and pulled out a small, but fat leather pouch. When he stood again, his light blue eyes stared straight in to hers. She was struck for a moment by the intensity there. 

“Momoi,” he said, “You have to come up with something. Kise is depending on you.”

She stared at him, at a loss for words. But then she swallowed hard and nodded. 

“I’ll go back and start planning right away. This one won’t be easy.”

“Are they ever?” Kuroko muttered as he opened his door once more.

“Kuroko, where are you going?”

He pulled his hood up over his head, “To see the Undertaker,” then he disappeared out the door.

The Undertaker was one of the people who worked very closely with the Generation of Miracles. He was a mysterious man who was always dabbling in something a little bit on the unsavory side. But he was loyal to the Generation and would sooner sell his soul than sell out the Generation. Although Kagami was pretty sure that Undertaker had already done that, so he wasn’t too keen on the guy’s trust. Nevertheless, he had always delivered when the Generation needed his help. If ever a time that was, now would definitely be a time of need. 

Kuroko pushed the heavy black door open without even knocking. While Kuroko normally felt at home in the dark, the oppressive black that was the air of the Undertaker’s shop made him on edge.

“Kuroko! I had a feeling one of you would show up here sooner or later! It being you makes me quite happy.” The Undertaker said from behind his counter. 

“I need eight Reaper Keepers,” Kuroko mumbled as he stepped up to the counter.

The Undertaker raised one eyebrow suspiciously at Kuroko, “Only eight? Are you sure you don’t mean twelve?”

“Won’t need twelve,”

“Oh? Why not?”

Kuroko looked the Undertaker straight in the eye. A shiver passed through Kuroko at the silver color of the man’s irises. But he didn’t allow himself to falter.

“We’ll free Kise before the fourth day.”

“Oh, I see,” the Undertaker mused. His lips curled up in to a smile and he rose from his chair, “Then eight Reaper Keepers coming right up!” He said in a sing-song voice. He returned from the back of his shop a few minutes later with a small burlap bag.

“Eight Reaper Keepers, ready to go! That’ll be—“

Kuroko dropped the leather pouch heavy with coins on the counter.

“Keep the change,” he mumbled, sweeping the bag in to his hand and turning to exit out the building once more. The Undertaker blinked after him and was quiet for a second. Then he leaned on his counter and placed his cheek on his palm. He clicked his tongue a few times.

“Things are about to get very interesting around here,” he giggled to himself, “I can’t wait!”

 

Kise tried to move his back away from the pole. The hot metal then hit the inside of his right wrist and he flinched. He hissed, pushing air quickly between clenched teeth. His mouth still tasted like blood from when the Guard had punched him.

“Dirty bastard,” he grumbled. 

This was literally the worst. He could barely hold his arms up any more. The awkward angle of his hands behind his back and the weight of the irons were wearing him out. But if he let his hands fall then the metal of the pole could burn him. He needed to minimize the possibility for sores as best he could. He just needed to last a few hours in to the night when the metal would cool. Then he could sit down and rest. But he doubted just how well he would be able to get some rest with the spirits walking all around him.

A sigh escaped his lips and he wished he had some water. The most reaction he had gotten from the people around him were small glances. But it was better that way. If someone tried to offer him anything, they would get the same punishment as him. Kise was a hardy guy—he could handle this kind of punishment for three days. He couldn’t say the same for any of the civilians. Besides, it was his job as a member of the Generation to protect the people of Algorthi.

There was a flicker of movement to his left and he let his gaze move to it. That was the closest someone had come to him all day. But when he looked, there was nothing. He blinked hard once but there was still nothing. He swore he had seen movement. So then what—

Kuroko. 

Kise looked around for the light haired male. He spotted him walking away from Kise. He had a small burlap pouch on his belt. Kise turned his eyes back to his left and tried to see what Kuroko had done. There was a reason he had been so close and why he needed to go unnoticed. After a second, Kise saw the Reaper Keeper. A Reaper Keeper was a small talisman that the Undertaker had designed. The talisman created some kind of shield through the use of energies that disgusted the spirits. Paranoid citizens would put them on their windows and over their doors to help ward their homes from the wandering ghosts. 

After finding the Reaper Keeper, Kise glanced around. None of the guards were really paying him that much attention. They probably hadn’t even noticed Kuroko enter the center of the marketplace. A small breath of relief left Kise. He would hate himself if Kuroko or any of the Generation got caught because of his screw up. But even now Kise wasn’t sure how he had gotten caught. Everything was perfect. It wasn’t like that had been his first time smuggling a girl out of the city. In fact he was quite good at it. He had all his routes secured and the people who worked with him were those who had already lost their daughters to the mirza’s bloodlust. They didn’t wish that kind of crushing sorrow on anyone. Kise was sure that none of his runners would sell him out. So how exactly had the guards found out about his smuggling and where had the suspicions of working with the Generation of Miracles come from?

About forty minutes later, Kuroko appeared at the other end of the market. He was walking away from Kise which meant that he had dropped another Reaper Keeper. The best perimeter would be to put one at each corner of the platform. This would create the fullest coverage of the area around Kise. He felt a little bad—Kuroko could only be “invisible” for a few minutes at a time. He would have to rest between each attempt and it would definitely be exhausting. There was no room for error here. Luckily, the Reaper Keepers were small and barely noticeable, especially with Kuroko’s careful placement. 

Fifty minutes passed again and the sun was beginning to descend from the sky. Kise felt a cold sweat break across his skin despite the heat radiating from the pole. The number of guards had increased since it was getting closer to nighttime. If Kise was with the Generation of Miracles, the guards expected his comrades to attempt to break him while the sun was still in the sky. Kise swallowed hard. There was no way that Kuroko would be able to go unnoticed by so many guards. He hadn’t had enough time to rest. But then Kise blinked and Kuroko was walking away from the platform on the right side. What? When had he—? Right at his side, Kuroko flashed two fingers.

He had dropped both of the Reaper Keepers on the right side.

Kise barely kept himself from grinning. At least there was some relief. Tonight he would be safe from the spirits at least. This would allow him to get some rest. But tomorrow would be a hard day since he didn’t have any food or water. However, with the sleep that he would hopefully get tonight thanks to Kuroko, things would be much better.

 

Kuroko stumbled as he walked back to his home. He had been desperate for his last drop of the Reaper Keepers. He thought one of the guards might have seen him for a moment. But it was when he was leaving the marketplace. It still left a bad taste in his mouth. He should have done them one at a time. Even if he was running out of time, it would have been safer for him to wait. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and ran down the back of his tunic.

When he reached his house and was inside, he had to support himself with the doorframe. The clay masonry was warm beneath his touch. He grabbed the jug of water on his windowsill and took a large drink from it. Immediately he felt bad. Kise was probably very thirsty by now. Kuroko’s grip on the jug tightened and he put it back on the ledge with a little more force than necessary. It was then that he noticed the dirt on his sill. To anyone else, it would just look like a smudge of dirt. But it was a code. Kuroko nodded before wiping it away with his palm. Tomorrow the Generation of Miracles would meet and go over their plan.

They were going to save Kise, no matter what.

 

There was a knock at Efendi Aomine’s door. The prince looked up from his glass of wine. He pursed his lips distastefully.

“You may enter,” he called in a bored tone. A moment later the doors opened slowly and the head of the Guard walked in. He fell to one knee with his head bowed.

“Efendi,” the Guard greeted.

Aomine sighed, “What is it? You’re interrupting,” He gestured vaguely towards the fainting couch. 

The Guard turned his gaze and froze for a moment. A naked woman was on the couch, a gag in her mouth and her limbs bound. Tears streamed from her eyes and she whimpered against the cloth between her lips. The Guard swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from the woman. He looked back at Aomine and cleared his throat. The mirza had a smug grin on his face and a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. He took a sip from his bejeweled chalice.

“So what is it that you need?”

“Right,” the Guard cleared his throat again, “It’s been two days since we put Ryouta Kise in the marketplace center. There have been no attempts to free him and he is being affected as much as anyone else. No one has aided him in any way. I think the intelligence we received of him being involved with the Generation of Miracles was false.”

“Hm,” Aomine propped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his cheek on his palm, “That is troublesome. I had so hoped to kill two birds with one stone. Oh well. I have no use for someone who would take my spoils from me anyhow. He shall still be killed for his crimes against me.”

“Yes, Efendi,” the Guard said with a bow. Aomine drank again from his cup. He sighed, suddenly disinterested. 

“Have the woman for your efforts.”

“Efendi?”

Aomine gestured towards the shaking woman on the couch, “Take her any way you like.”

A flush came to the Guard’s cheeks and he nodded, “Thank you Efendi,” then he stood and began to walk towards the woman. Aomine rose from his chair as well and moved out to his balcony once more. 

The Blood Moon hung in the night sky like a large jewel. The ghosts were groaning below, just now coming out to wander. The sound of the woman’s muffled screams added to the night’s chorus. Aomine sat in one of the chairs on the balcony and sipped from his wine. He wasn’t worried about the Generation of Miracles themselves. They were merely an underground syndicate that didn’t have enough power to challenge him in the daylight. Enemies like that were of no importance to him. But he wouldn’t mind to get his hands on the power of some of the members. One of those members being the Desert Fox. 

Stories told that the Desert Fox could move unnoticed even in an open space. Stealth like that could be very useful for espionage and even assassinations. Normally hiring an assassin wasn’t Aomine’s style. He much preferred to spill blood by his own hand. But sometimes he got tired and why should the bloodshed cease simply because he was tired? The Desert Fox would simply become an extension of Aomine’s blade. He had never heard of the Desert Fox being violent, however a person in such a profession would have to have some form of combat training for his own safety.

“Efendi,” came the haggard voice of the Guard, “I have finished. What shall I do with the woman?”

Aomine waved a dismissive hand, “Call an attendant. Kill her yourself or you can let the executioner do it. It makes no matter to me,”

“As you desire, Efendi,” the Guard said. There were some sounds as the attendant came in and took the whimpering woman away. The Guard also left and Aomine was left to his thoughts again. He sipped at his wine and stared at the moon. His thoughts drifted as he listened to the listless voices of the specters. 

Not ten minutes had passed when a great commotion started in the palace.

“It’s him!” Someone shouted.

“How did he get in here?” Another yelled.

“It doesn’t matter! Catch him!” 

Aomine blinked and began to put his chalice down when a form jumped from the roof. His eyes followed the figure as it sailed across the sky. They jumped in front of the moon where their body was silhouetted against the dark scarlet. Aomine couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They landed with a soft thud on the railing of his balcony in a crouched position. The person was breathing heavily and their chest heaved with the quick breaths. They inhaled quickly and turned sharply to look at Aomine. 

Neither moved for what felt like hours. The noises continued in the palace as chaos ensued but that all seemed so far away. The stranger’s eyes shone an eerie pale blue in the moon’s light. Even bathed in the red of the moon, the blue was startling and brilliant. The person faced Aomine fully as they stood to their full height. By the figure, Aomine could tell it was a man and probably about the same age as him. His figure stood just under the Blood Moon and his face was covered by shadows. 

“Efendi!” Roared the head of the Guards as he burst through the doors.

The man on the railing didn’t flinch or startle. He simply leaned back and fell from the railing. They disappeared with a flutter of cloth as they fell. Aomine rose from his seat and moved to his balcony, the Guard not far behind him. Aomine didn’t see anything but darkness below him.

“Damn him!” The Guard cursed, slamming his fist angrily against the marble railing, “That damn Fox!”

Aomine looked at the Guard, “That was the Desert Fox?”

“Yes, Efendi,” the Guard said through clenched teeth, “Somehow that rat got in here. We don’t know what he took yet but please be careful tonight. Damn it! Where did he go?” The Guard turned and quickly left Aomine’s presence. 

Aomine looked over the railing once more. He still didn’t see anything. Could a person survive such a fall? He turned his eyes back up at the Blood Moon. The image of the man standing silhouetted in the Blood Moon’s shadow had seared itself in to Aomine’s mind. He felt his lips curl up in to a thin smile.

Maybe the Desert Fox would be worth his time after all.


	2. Streets Run Red

There was shuffling around Kise. He didn’t bother to look up. His body was weak and sluggish from the days of his display. The noises of the ghosts and ghouls around him had long since faded in to the drone of noise around him.

“Kise.”

The man groaned. Now he was imagining the spirits were talking to him. It was a good thing his execution was tomorrow because he was going crazy. He felt a heavy anxiety grip his heart. This was going to be his last night on the planet.

“Kise!”

“Why can’t you just let me die in peace, you hateful shades!”

Suddenly someone was clamping a hand over Kise’s mouth. Kise struggled and fought with his remaining strength. His chains clanged noisily against the metal pole.

“Kise!” Hissed the voice, “Kise stop! It’s me—it’s Kuroko!”

The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Kuroko?” He mumbled before the irons fell from his wrists. Giving in to exhaustion, Kise’s knees buckled under him and he collapsed. Kuroko reached out and supported him. But Kise was taller than Kuroko, and the smaller male wasn’t very strong in the first place. So really he just slowed Kise’s fall rather than preventing it.

“Is it really you Kuroko?”

Kuroko nodded, “Kise, drink some water,” he whispered, holding up a full waterpouch. Kuroko held the opening to Kise’s lips and allowed the liquid to run. Kise greedily gulped the offered water. The feel of it running down his parched throat was a relief in itself He would have held the pouch himself, but his arms were numb and he couldn’t feel them, let alone lift them.

“Kuroko,” Kise began, “How did you—“ 

Violent coughs cut him off and shook his entire body. Kuroko waited for Kise to get back under control. When he was breathing normally again, Kuroko offered him some more water.

“Sip it slowly this time,” he whispered. Kise nodded and carefully sipped at the water. 

Kuroko allowed Kise to hydrate himself a bit more before speaking again, “We’re getting you out of the city tonight. Momoi has everything already arranged for you. There will be a caravan waiting by the eastern exit. Kagami and Midorima are covering the path with Reaper Keepers as we speak. It should be safe.”

“What about all of you?” Kise asked as Kuroko helped him down from the platform. They moved slowly but with purpose towards the eastern exit.

“We’ll deal with whatever the Efendi throws at us. Right now it’s most important to get you out of here.”

Kise nodded and allowed himself to be lead along the path. 

 

Kuroko watched as the covered wagon made its way away from the city under the cover of the moon. The sounds from the palace had quieted for some time. Now the only noise came from the shuffling and groaning of the spirits. For some reason, there weren’t as many out tonight as there normally was. Perhaps it was because of the large amount of Reaper Keepers that had been placed along the escape route. Kuroko himself had a few of the amulets on his person and he had soaked in a special herbal bath before the mission.

“That was way too risky,” Momoi said from next to Kuroko, “I should never have let you talk me in to this plan. There had to have been another way.”

“But it worked,” Kuroko replied simply.

“Not the point! If the guards had caught you—or worse—if someone had seen your face—“

“Momoi,” Kuroko cut her off, “It’s fine. No one saw me.”

She frowned, a small crease forming between her eyebrows, “Okay,” and she nodded once.

Kuroko turned his eyes up to look at the moon. The scarlet sphere seemed to stare right back at him, its red light unrelenting and ominous.

“We should get some sleep,” Kuroko muttered, “We need to be ready for the mirza’s next move.”

Momoi nodded again, “You’re right. Be careful getting home, Kuroko!” 

 

The sun was high in the sky when the horns were blown in the center of town. Kuroko looked up from the tear he was mending in his trousers. His brows creased. Those horns were a call to everyone to the center of the city. Any who refused the call would be imprisoned for an undisclosed amount of time.

Kuroko rolled his head on his neck to try and work out the stiffness in his muscles. The heist last night had been very high pressure. Now he was feeling it on his body. A groan escaped his lips as he rose from his chair. Stashing his thieving supplies, he grabbed his me’il and wrapped it around himself when he left his house.

Everyone in the city had gathered by the time that Kuroko arrived at the center of the market. He kept his face neutral despite his extreme confusion. His light coloured eyes quickly took a scan of the situation. He found the other members of the Generation mulling about in the crowd, hiding in the plainest of sight. The soft murmur of the crowd was filled with many questions. Some of them were about what happened to the criminal, what was the noise at the palace last night, and others were too hushed to be understood. But silence instantly fell when a figure stepped up on to the platform. Kuroko’s throat tightened and he felt his blood run cold.

It was Efendi Aomine.

Already an imposing figure, standing on that platform made Aomine even more intimidating. Unlike others of his high standing, he was not afraid to bare his skin to the sun’s rays. He wore only loose midnight black breeches with a deep scarlet silk cummerbund just above his hips. To show the strength of his muscles and the battle prowess of scars that littered his skin, he wore no tunic. Only an unfastened crème robe hung from his shoulders and swished about his feet. 

It was customary that the Efendi wear some kind of headdress, normally a turban. But just as he did away with his father’s reign, so did Aomine disregard his father’s customs. Instead of covering his head completely, he preferred the simpler design of the Western cultures. A thin silver circlet sat just below his hairline across his tanned forehead. The design circled around the back of his head to open in the front with ends shaped like oak leaves. The leaves then tilted upwards and inwards to hold a well-cut ruby in the middle of Aomine’s forehead. Not only was it a symbol of his position and power, but the color of the stone reminded anyone who gazed upon him that Efendi Aomine was the Blood Prince.

“Everyone has gathered, Efendi,” the guardsmen closest to him said with a small bow.

Aomine let his eyes roam over the crowd for an unnervingly long moment. 

“As you all can see,” Aomine began, his voice terrifyingly even, “The prisoner Kise Ryouta has escaped.”

No one dared to speak, but their surprise was evident on their faces.

“This only confirms our suspicions that Kise Ryouta was in contact with the Generation of Miracles,” Aomine continued, “If you should be found to have assisted the Generation of Miracles or Kise Ryouta in any way you will be imprisoned indefinitely if not executed on the spot.”

The frightened silence continued to make the air tense in the marketplace.

“With that being said,” Aomine’s dark eyes sparkled with an eerie glint, “There is another punishment for the escape of the prisoner. We were set for an execution today, correct?” Aomine asked, directing his question to the head of the guard.

The head was startled that Aomine was speaking to him directly and hurried to answer, “Y-Yes, Efendi. Kise Ryouta was to be executed this morning for acting against you and your will.”  
Aomine hummed and looked speculative for a moment, “Well it won’t do to go so off schedule, now will it? As far as I’m concerned, all of you have gone against me in allowing this Generation of Miracles to operate freely. I will kill one person every hour until the sun sets every day starting when the sun is the highest in the sky. That means five executions a day.”

His eyes scanned the crowd again. Kuroko felt a tightness begin around his heart. The man couldn’t be serious. Five executions a day? On what ground? Aomine hadn’t said when he would stop either. Surely he wouldn’t go on until he had killed every single person in the town, right?

Aomine’s gaze stopped and he lifted a hand to point.

“Bring me that man,” he commanded. Kuroko followed Aomine’s outstretched hand, as did every eye gathered there. The guards rushed forward and grabbed a dark-haired man. Kuroko recognized him. He was a nice man, always had something good to say about you. He had never done anything bad in his life. Kuroko was convinced he didn’t have a single bad bone in his body. His wife cried out and rushed forward, but the people around her stopped her from advancing. They tried to calm her and tell her not to look. But the woman broke down, yelling out her husband’s name and pleading for mercy.

Kuroko’s eyes met the man who had been standing right next to the man now being forced to the platform. It was Kagami. Two inches to the left and it would have been Kagami that was on display now.

“There is one condition however,” Aomine called out as the man was forced to kneel before him, “I’ll stop the executions immediately if the Desert Fox turns himself over to me.”

The spell now broken, surprised gasps came from the crowd. People began to whisper fearfully once again.

“If the Desert Fox doesn’t come,” Aomine reached forward and effortlessly twisted the man’s head until a loud crack was heard. His wife screamed as the man fell over, his eyes staring lifelessly at nothing.

Aomine’s lips rose in to a darkly gleeful grin, “I kill one person every hour,” He looked up and addressed the crowd again, “You know how to get in. Your time starts now, Fox.”

With that he turned and walked down from the platform, followed by the guards. The man’s wife broke free of the people holding her. She ran to the platform and cradled her husband’s body in her arms. Her wails were the only sound as all the citizens stood in shock and were paralyzed by fear. There was no telling who would be next—it could literally be anyone. A great sense of dread fell over the crowd and any hope that they had once felt for being free from Efendi Aomine’s tyranny swiftly and completely left their hearts.

 

“No! I absolutely forbid it!” Momoi yelled. Kuroko was just entering their hideout as Momoi and Midorima were arguing.

“Momoi,” Midorima said with a growl, “We don’t have any other choice. You heard him. He’s serious. He’s already killed three people.”

“Not to mention all the people who were either killed or arrested when they tried to leave the city,” Kagami said from his position in the corner. He had a piece of wood in his hand that he was carving with his pocketknife.

Momoi shot him a glare, “You are not being helpful!”

“I’ll go,” Kuroko said, standing between Momoi and Midorima. They both jumped, slightly startled by his sudden appearance.

“Kuroko,” Momoi whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes and overflowed. Kuroko reached out and promptly wiped them away.

“Kuroko, he might kill you,” Momoi implored of him.

Kuroko shook his head, “I don’t think so. The way he was acting—he was too amused by the whole thing. I think he has something else planned for me.”

“At least it can’t be worse than death,” Kagami spoke up again, “Right?”

“There are a lot of things worse than death, brat,” Midorima murmured. Momoi shook her head and grabbed Kuroko in a tight embrace.

“Please don’t go,” she begged.

“It really is the only thing we can do, Momoi.”

At that, the hopelessness of the situation fully struck Momoi and she broke down in to sobs that shook her body. Her legs lost their strength and she collapsed, taking Kuroko with her. There in a huddled mass, Momoi clung to Kuroko as she wept. A stiff silence fell over the room; Momoi’s cries the only sound in the dark room. Even Kagami had halted his carving.

 

In total, 16 people had been killed that day, including the five public executions. Aomine’s advisor had come in and listed the names of those who had died and those who had been imprisoned. But really Aomine couldn’t care less about those nobodies. The only name he was looking for was the Desert Fox. The headstrong Efendi was sure that the master thief would come eventually. There was no way the Generation of Miracles would let such bloodshed continue. At least, not if they lived up to their reputation. That was why Aomine wasn’t surprised when he turned to walk back in to his room from the balcony to find someone standing in the doorway.

His lips turned up in to a smug grin, “So you’ve come.”

Aomine moved in to the room, his lounging robe swishing about his feet. He moved to stand infront of Kuroko, looking down at him. Aomine was about six inches taller than Kuroko and examined him with a critical eye.

“You’re much smaller than I had thought. You seemed so much larger the other night on my balcony. But,” he murmured, reaching out with his hand to softly cup Kuroko’s cheek, “You do have a good face.”

Kuroko harshly slapped Aomine’s hand away and fixed the man with a cold glare, “Give your word that you will stop the executions.”

A darkness crept in to Aomine’s eyes. His hand shot out and wrapped around Kuroko’s neck. With minimal effort he lifted Kuroko up off the ground by the grip. Kuroko tried to pull Aomine’s hands from his neck, but the Efendi was so strong! It was difficult to breathe and Kuroko was gasping for air.

“I’ll be the one making demands here, understand?” Aomine hissed. Then he released his grip and Kuroko dropped to the ground. He inhaled quickly and deeply, rubbing at the irritated skin on his neck.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Aomine blinked, genuine surprise in his expression, “Kill you?” He laughed, “No that would be too easy. I’m going to use you—turn you in to my personal thief. I bet you know how to kill a man? Assassin would be an easy change of title.” 

“I never spill innocent blood,” Kuroko growled, his voice still rough.

“That’s rich coming from you, Desert Fox,” Aomine knelt down so that he was eye-to-eye with Kuroko, “I know all about you. I know all about your past and everything that you’ve done. Don’t even try your holy act with me, I know just which sins you’ve committed.”

Kuroko’s eyes widened momentarily before he smoothed out his features again.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Hm,” the Efendi chuckled with slight amusement. He leaned forward, his breath hot against Kuroko’s ear, “Could you say that to the people of Aghraba?” 

A dizzying wave of panic hit Kuroko. For a moment, the world spun and he was transported to a time long ago. He was still so young then—not much older than 15. He had been training as a thief since he was 7 years old. Kuroko had already seen so many dark things that adults could never even fathom. That time—that life—Kuroko didn’t want anything else to do with it. Aghraba had burned and taken all of its citizens with it.

And it had been all Kuroko’s fault. Simply because of whose blood was spilled.

“I refuse to go back to that life,” Kuroko said, a tremor of fear in his voice.

Aomine moved away, standing back to his full height, “You will do as I say,” he commanded. His eyes had gone cold and there was a hard edge in his words.

“Attendant,” Aomine called. A moment later, the large ornate doors swung open and a simply dressed man walked in. He bowed deeply to Aomine.

“You called, Efendi?” The attendant asked.

“I wish to bathe before retiring for the night.”

The attendant snuck a glance at Kuroko crumpled on the floor, “And the Desert Fox, Efendi? What action do you wish to take?”

“He won’t be any trouble,” the mirza said as he moved out of the room, “If he leaves, I’ll kill everyone he cares for.”

As Aomine passed him, the attendant lowered his head once more. With one last wayward look, the attendant also followed Aomine out of the room. The doors closed with a concise and definite bang, echoing through the now empty room.

Numbness had settled in to all of Kuroko’s limbs. It was like time had stopped. Kuroko had stepped in to a nightmare and there was no way he could wake up. The howls of the specters lurking just outside added to the melancholy that hung in the air.

Kuroko looked out the stained glass at the moon that hung high in the sky. The red glow fell across his face and seemed to mock the blood he had once spilt. The moon had seen it all. It knew just how stained red Kuroko actually was. Dread sat like a bad taste in Kuroko’s mouth and he feared for the future that lay ahead of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life under Aomine is worse than Kuroko could have imagined. But then Kuroko discovers just what Aomine does with the girls he calls to the palace. Things become even more desperate as a face Kuroko had never expected to see so soon appears. Time has run out for Kuroko and he is forced to make a decision that will change his life forever.

A week had passed since Kuroko came to the palace. Efendi Aomine had kept his word. The public executions stopped immediately. People whispered about the Desert Fox and many feared for his safety. They also worried about what would come of this union. Just what was the Efendi planning on doing with the Desert Fox under his thumb? Many had expected the mirza to simply kill the Desert Fox—reveal the Generation of Miracles and destroy them. But the days went by and no blood was spilt. This put the people on edge even more so than the executions might have. The unknown was terrifying and people didn’t know how to react.

The treatment Kuroko received was odd. He was kept as a pet but also treated as a guest. Aomine forced him to stay by his side at all times. It wasn’t as if he needed to keep an eye on the thief, but it was more like a display of power. Aomine had tamed the Desert Fox—he had acquired the best thief in the world. 

Foreign dignitaries would visit and pay their respects to Aomine. Kuroko was forced to attend the meetings and dinners. But Aomine always had him wear a mask. It was of Eastern origin and covered the entirety of Kuroko’s face. It was white in the shape of a fox’s face. Aomine always grinned smugly when he looked at Kuroko. The visitors would whisper and then address Aomine.

“Is that,” they would pause as if deciding their words carefully, “Could that be the famed Desert Fox?”

Aomine’s lips would thin in a grin, “It is.”

At that point, excited murmurs would break out from the dinner party. Aomine reveled in it. He loved having the one toy that no one else had. He was so much like a spoiled child that it made Kuroko sick sometimes.

“Could we,” another would begin.

“What does he look like?”

“Could we see his face?”

“How did you manage that?”

“What are you planning with him?”

The questions would all come flooding in at once. It was as if a dam had been broken. The sounds of voices trying to talk over each other would fill the dining room. Aomine would just sit back and laugh to himself. It was all so amusing to him. Kuroko hated him for it.

Kuroko entered Aomine’s room before him, angrily ripping the mask from his face. He threw it to the side. It clattered against the floor and slid to bump in to the wall.

“Now now,” Aomine chided, “I had that custom made for you.”

Kuroko turned on him, his face expressionless but his eyes snapping with fury.

“Why even bother? It would be better for you if my face was known.”

“But if people knew your face, they would know who you are.”

“Isn’t that your point?”

Aomine frowned, “Honestly. I expected more from you, Fox,” he moved to his bed and began to remove his clothing. They pooled in a mess of fabric at his feet. He let his robe fall from his shoulders and he twisted at the waist to look back at Kuroko.

“How could I use you if people knew what you looked like?”

“Then why aren’t you using me?” Kuroko’s frustration boiled over and was evident in his harsh tone.

The mirza paused, his body tensing. Kuroko’s gaze flickered only slightly to the bunching of muscles just under the man’s tanned and scarred skin. The thief swallowed and steeled himself. Aomine then turned his body the rest of the way. He faced Kuroko head on. Then, with slow and deliberate steps, he moved to loom over Kuroko.

“Tell me little Fox,” Aomine said. He reached out, his hand moving quickly, and roughly grabbed Kuroko’s chin, “Is your desire to be used really so great?” 

Aomine held Kuroko’s gaze for a moment before his lips thinned in to a wicked grin.

“Then, if you so wish to be used,” he murmured. Without warning, his grip tightened painfully on Kuroko’s jaw and the man cried out in surprise. Using the opening, Aomine moved and cemented his lips to Kuroko’s, shoving his tongue in to the man’s mouth. Kuroko was only stunned a moment before he pushed with all his might against Aomine. The mirza only relented after Kuroko bit down on the slimy organ within his mouth. Aomine flinched, pulling back. He growled deep in his throat as he spat the blood from his mouth.

But as his anger dissipated it was replaced with roaring laughter. His dark eyes sparkled with humor when he looked back at Kuroko. Aomine smiled and licked the bit of blood on his lip.

“Interesting,” he practically purred.

Kuroko scrubbed furiously at his mouth. He hated the lingering warmth—the remaining taste—of Aomine in his mouth. He clenched his teeth tightly in hopes of keeping out anymore unwanted intrusions.

“Efendi,” an attendant called from the other side of the door. Aomine pouted.

“So soon?” He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He pulled a sleeping robe from a hook and draped it lazily over his shoulders without putting his arms in the sleeves. With an easy stride he moved to the doorway. As it was opening, he glanced at Kuroko over his shoulder. His lips were still upturned in a sly grin.

“Be a good kit while I’m out. Don’t miss me too much,” he said with a laugh. Then he was out the door. 

Kuroko exhaled slowly through clenched teeth. He had never felt such shame in his life. He hated Efendi Aomine like no one ever before. The dark emotions that swirled in him reminded him of his past and it made him sick. He hated himself for feeling this way. But really, there was no other way to feel about Aomine.

Kuroko looked down and he caught sight of the mask just to his left. Rage boiled up inside of him and a frustrated yell ripped itself out of his lips. The sound bounced off the walls. He could almost swear he heard Aomine’s amused laughter echoing in response somewhere in the gilded halls.

 

Angry at Aomine and especially at himself, Kuroko couldn’t sit still. He hated being in the room—just waiting for whenever Aomine would return. Kuroko wasn’t that man’s pet. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be objectified like that. So he put his thieving clothes on and stepped out on to the balcony. He looked out over the railing for a moment, spotting the spirits that meandered just below. A shiver went through him as he remembered the heist the other night.

Kuroko had had to get to the bottom of the building as fast as he could after snatching the key to Kise’s manacles. He had thought he would be able to go out the same way he had gotten in. But the guards had quickly sealed that off. Wishful thinking on his part, he supposed. That only left one option and it was to take the fasted route down—off the side of the building. The various railings of balconies were fairly close together and not that bad of a drop. However as he descended, the guards anticipated his movements and even began to close off his escape that way. Kuroko had been forced to employ some evasive maneuvers. He would have been able to avoid the Efendi completely had it not been for the guards. 

Yet Kuroko had been forced to jump down to the man’s balcony. Perhaps it had been fate or some sick joke played by the gods. Kuroko had thought that after being seen by Aomine that would have been it for the heist. So, in a slight panic, he decided to jump the rest of the way to the ground from Aomine’s balcony. The fall had been terrifying, but Kuroko had done worse. It was the uncertainty of whether the Reaper Keepers had been set yet that worried him. But there hadn’t been anything to worry about because Midorima and Kagami had done quick work of the ground and prepared everything so that Kuroko’s escape could be the smoothest as possible. 

A wail from below brought Kuroko back to the present. He inhaled deeply the cooled air of the night. Even though the red glow of the moon reminded him of the tyranny he was under, the night had always been a source of comfort for him. Perhaps it was because he had always lived in the night—thrived in it. The night had provided for him a home and a life and a way to survive. Sometimes it wasn’t a life to be proud of, but he was still alive nonetheless. But that life of his—the life blanketed in darkness—is what had put him in the situation he was currently in. Shaking his head, he removed those thoughts from his head. Right now he just needed to move without thought or reason. He just needed to become a part of the darkness. So he took a step to the left and jumped off the railing.

 

Darkness embraced him like an old friend. Kuroko moved silently and unnoticed along the rooftops of the houses below. Only the specters were audience to his flight. Remnants of the day’s townsfolk remained in the sand. There were footfalls and the trails left by long skirts in the dirt of the marketplace. Kuroko crouched on the edge of an abandoned building that stood on the perimeter of the market. He let his eyes trace the lines in the sand and imagined the movements of the people. He saw old women haggling, men trading knowledge, young women still full of life gossiping with one another, and children running about without fear. He couldn’t help the small smile that curled his lips. For a moment, he wondered idly if Momoi or Kagami had traversed the marketplace that day—or any day previous.

Quickly, Kuroko stamped that thought down. He couldn’t think of them now. He wouldn’t allow himself to let himself be distracted. It was his mission now to survive whatever it was that Aomine planned to throw at him. Kuroko suppressed a shudder as he briefly remembered the forced kiss. A large stone had set itself in his stomach and left him uneasy. Just what exactly did Aomine plan to do? Humiliate Kuroko and diminish his reputation as thief? Or were his threats of assassination to ring true in the future? 

The blue-eyed man shook his head and stood. The nighttime wind ruffled his hair. The light coloured ends swayed slightly in his face. It was getting long, he thought. If his hair got too long it would interfere with his work. A small chuckle left his lips. He didn’t know if he would live another day under the Efendi’s watch and here he was worrying about the length of his hair. Momoi probably would have scolded him for being so carefree. But really, what was he to do about this whole thing? So he took a step and returned to the palace.

 

Nearly every night Aomine disappeared somewhere. The attendant would come in and then Aomine would leave. Kuroko was pretty sure it was to discuss some issues with the city. But Aomine sometimes did not return until very late. There were even a few instances were Kuroko would not see the Efendi until breakfast the next morning. But Aomine rarely looked unrested—in fact he always appeared like a cat that had been given cream. Kuroko didn’t really question it too much. If it became important that he know about Aomine’s late night activities, Kuroko would learn.

He never expected he would learn so soon.

Kuroko returned to the palace around the sixth hour of the night. The building was dimly lit by a minimal number of candles. All of the slaves had finished cleaning the halls. Not even the palace baker had risen yet to make the morning meal’s pastries. As Kuroko landed back on the balcony of Aomine’s room, all was quiet. Well, nearly quiet. Kuroko paused when he heard a noise from a few windows over. It had sounded like a muffled sob or gasp. He frowned and waited for another moment. There it was again. Now that he was looking, Kuroko noticed that there was a light on in a room to the left of him. With cautious and silent movements, he jumped over to the other balcony. The large glass doors were closed, but the curtains hadn’t been drawn completely. Kuroko—careful not to get spotted—slowly peeked in to the room. 

He felt all the color drain from his face.

In the room, on the floor was a woman. She was naked, bruises and cuts apparent on her lightly tanned skin. Her hair was a mess and tears created tracks down her cheeks. A strip of silk was in her mouth for a gag. Ropes bound her arms behind her and bars were being used to keep her legs open. Kuroko was disgusted when he realized just why her legs would need to be open.

Kuroko’s eyes fell on Aomine as he thrust in to the woman. His face was split by a grin and his eyes sparkled darkly. The woman beneath him tried to cry out, but the gag cut off any sounds. Her back was burning and the ropes bit in to her skin. She turned her head as her body was pushed harshly against the floor. She looked up and her eyes widened as she spotted Kuroko. He visibly flinched at the emotions in her eyes swimming with tears.

Fear, hate, and _hope_.

She began to scream harder in to her gag. Did she think that perhaps Kuroko could save her? Aomine didn’t seem to notice. But a visible shudder ran through his body. His grin became predatory and his thrusts more violent. He climaxed with a deep growl that made a cold shiver run down Kuroko’s spine. He didn’t even have time to see the knife. 

Suddenly there was a knife in Aomine’s hand. It moved effortlessly through the woman’s skin and across her neck. The cut was swift and deep, easily severing the jugular vein and carotid artery. Rich, scarlet blood ran down the side of her neck. Small, pitiful gurgles came from her mouth as she tried to breathe past the blood. Kuroko had to turn away. He couldn’t watch as the life slipped away from her dark brown eyes.

He took a few deep gulps of the cool night air. But even that didn’t still the trembles shaking his body. Aomine had killed that woman. He had raped her and then killed her. He was even more twisted than Kuroko could have imagined. What kind of monster had they allowed to live and rule this city? He had known that when girls were called up to the palace, they were never seen again. Never did it ever cross his mind that Aomine would have been killing them after having his way. It made him feel sick all over again and it took all of his will not to throw up over the balcony’s railing. Then he quickly hoisted himself up on to the rail and jumped back to the other balcony.

Kuroko stumbled slightly in the landing, ending up sprawled on the cool marble of the outcropping. He picked himself up, but stared at his hands on the floor. His fingers curled slowly in to fists. The sound of his fist hitting against the floor was quiet. He shook his head and tried to keep his frustration from spilling over. This had to stop. He had to figure something out. Aomine had to be stopped as quickly as possible. 

 

There were no visitors at dinner that evening. It was strange, but definitely a welcome change for Kuroko. That meant he didn’t have to wear that stupid mask. The only sounds were of the clicking of utensils against plates and the occasional tap of a glass being placed back on the table. In the middle of the main course, the attendant came in.

“Efendi,” the man said as he rose from a deep bow, “Tonight’s woman has arrived.”

Aomine finished his sip of wine and put the cup down. He looked lazily and slowly at Kuroko.

“Bring her in. Have a meal set for her.”

The surprise was evident in the attendant’s gaze, but he bowed and left. Soon there were slaves making a place for another. Kuroko rose and Aomine gave him a curious look.

“Do you not wish to meet our guest?”

“I was going to retrieve my mask. I did not think you would wish me absent, Efendi,” Kuroko responded coldly. The corner of Aomine’s mouth rose in a bemused grin.

“Very good. Be sure to hurry back. I would hate you to miss her.”

Kuroko did not bow as he left. His footsteps were silent but without purpose. It wasn’t that he moved quickly, but he knew he would be in trouble if he took longer than necessary. So he grabbed his mask from the room and put it on as he was walking back. He was careful not to get any of his hair caught in the red string that secured the piece to his face. It wasn’t worth the pain, especially if he could avoid any unnecessary trouble. As he approached, he could hear Aomine speaking.

“You’re such a good girl. I had thought surely you would put up a little bit of a fuss. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, you know. Although perhaps I’m a bit sad at your lack of fire.”

Kuroko frowned behind his mask. Then he stepped in to the archway of the dining hall and froze.

Aomine turned his attention from the girl sitting on his lap.

“Desert Fox, so good of you to return. Won’t you sit?” Aomine gestured to the chair that Kuroko always sat in. But Aomine’s words sounded as if they had been said underwater. Kuroko didn’t hear any of it. His eyes were fixed to the woman.

Her pink eyes stared back at him unwavering. She was wearing a green and blue sari that her mother had brought from the Eastern Continent. Kuroko remembered being told of that dress. It had been the girl’s mother’s most prized possession. The girl had always dreamed of wearing it herself on her wedding day. But Kuroko hadn’t thought he would see it so soon, especially not in these conditions.

“You’re being rude to our guest, Fox,” Aomine said before motioning to the chair once more. Kuroko moved stiffly and sat in the chair.

Aomine smirked and then leaned in to the fabric of the sari wrapped around the girls’ neck. He inhaled deeply and a satisfied growl rumbled in his throat.

“This pretty pink flower’s name is Satsuki Momoi and she’s my most honored guest tonight. Isn’t that right, little peach?”

“Yes, Efendi,” she replied, only the faintest hint of fear in her voice.

Kuroko could only watch for the rest of the meal. He was normally ordered to remain silent when guests were present. But even if he had wanted to speak, he would have been at a loss for words.

It was Momoi. Momoi was Aomine’s woman for the night. 

Visions of crimson blood stained Kuroko’s vision and for a moment he thought he would surely be sick. There was no time—he had run out. His blood ran cold as he watched Aomine touch and taste Momoi at the table. He forced her to feed him and be a “good little pet” as he said. When Aomine had had his fill he waved the attendant over.

“Prepare a guest bedroom for her. I shall come to her after I bathe.”

The attendant nodded, “As you wish Efendi. This way miss,” he said. Momoi rose from her position on Aomine’s lap. He grabbed her wrist before she moved too far and pulled her back. He stole a forceful kiss and then released her. She staggered back, her lips slightly red from the action. Frustrated tears clung to the corner of her eyes. She looked only once at Kuroko before she turned and scampered after the attendant. 

Aomine rested his head in his palm and watched her leave.

“Who would have thought such a beautiful flower could bloom in a desert town like this?” He mused. His eyes slid over to Kuroko.

“You’ve been awfully still, Fox. Perhaps you know her?”

Kuroko ground his teeth and steeled himself before he spoke, “No.”

“Shame,” Aomine pouted. He pushed a grape lazily around his plate, “I’m going to kill her you know—rip my pleasure from her and then relieve her of her life.”

Kuroko looked up sharply at Aomine. The man grinned, all malice and malcontent.

“It’s intoxicating—having something so full of life and then just taking it. Have you ever watched the colour drain from a person’s skin? It’s enchanting.”

Hot rage boiled up inside Kuroko. He clenched his hands tightly under the table. The sharp pain of his nails biting in to his palms allowed him to focus his emotions.

“Oh? Did that upset you?” Aomine sat up and leaned in to Kuroko’s space, “ _Good._ ”

Kuroko quickly rose from his chair, the legs scraping against the stone floor.

“If you would excuse me, Efendi,” he said with all stiff politeness. Aomine moved away after a moment and waved him dismissively. Kuroko didn’t wait any longer and hurried from the hall. 

 

Kuroko’s footsteps clicked delicately against the floor. He didn’t have the patience for complete stealth. His mind was so full he could hardly concentrate on anything. Panic was beginning to set in to his bones. If he didn’t do something, Momoi would die that night.

And it would be entirely his fault.

It just didn’t make sense though. Kuroko had given himself up so that Aomine would stop killing the citizens. Why, then, was he continuing to take women and kill them? Was there something still that Kuroko had not given the man?

Kuroko stopped dead in his tracks. He stared absently ahead of him as a thought slid in to place. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? There was still something Aomine wanted from him. 

Absolute surrender. 

Aomine wanted the Desert Fox to be completely and unquestionably his. To say that the Desert Fox was under his control just wasn’t enough. Words had no meaning to that man. Only actions were the true power holders under this roof. There was only one thing Kuroko could do in this situation. He shook himself out and regained a quickened pace as he made his way down the hall.

 

“This way Efendi,” the attendant said, sweeping his arms towards the gilded doors.

Aomine nodded, “I shall call for you when I am finished.”

The attendant bowed, “As you desire, Efendi,” then moved away to attend to other business. 

The Efendi couldn’t help the grin that stretched his lips. He could tell that Kuroko had been lying. Perhaps he didn’t know the girl, but the idea of everything had still bothered him. Aomine would have to think of something else to rile the stoic man up some more. With that, he pushed open the great doors.

In the middle of the chamber stood a person. They were dressed in a traditional white sari, wrapped so that their entire frame was concealed. Aomine’s eyebrow rose.

“Why did you change? The other sari looked just fine for all intent and purposes,” he said as he moved in to the room. At his voice, the person turned and Aomine stopped. Kuroko looked back at him steadily from above the ghungat. Even with the sari over his head and across his face, Aomine could tell that those icy blue eyes belonged to the thief.

“Well,” Aomine purred, “This is certainly an interesting development. You are not the beauty I was expecting to find here.”

Kuroko closed his eyes for a moment before moving the ghungat so he could speak.

“I’m here to make a deal.”

“I’m listening,” Aomine said, stepping closer to Kuroko.

Kuroko took a deep breath, “Stop bringing girls from the village here and killing them.”

“And what shall I have in their place?” Aomine asked, slow and cautiously.

“Me,” Kuroko declared, letting the sari fall from his head and left shoulder. Aomine felt his lips thin in to a grin. Kuroko wasn’t wearing a top under the sari and his pale and scarred skin was bare to Aomine’s gaze. Aomine was now in front of Kuroko, a shadow being cast over the shorter male. Kuroko did not flinch and did not shrink away from the man. 

Aomine reached down and began to unwrap the sari from the petticoat snugly around Kuroko’s waist. The feel of Aomine’s hot fingers against Kuroko’s cool skin nearly made Kuroko shiver. It was an unpleasant feeling and repulsion was beginning to swirl in his stomach. 

As he undid the pleats and removed the last of the sari, the long fabric crumpled on the floor. A wicked gleam flashed across Aomine’s gaze. 

“Well, as a savvy businessman,” Aomine began, “I feel it only necessary to test the goods before settling on a price, don’t you?”

“As you desire, Efendi,” Kuroko said, flicking his tongue out to lick at his dried lips. Aomine’s eyes traced the movement. Aomine pulled Kuroko forward by the hem of the petticoat. Kuroko stumbled slightly, falling against Aomine’s body. The man’s skin was hot and uncomfortable, reminding Kuroko of the harsh heat of the midday sun. Aomine leaned down, his lips brushing against Kuroko’s as he spoke.

“If you do not surrender to me completely,” he whispered, “I will kill that girl immediately.”

“I will do whatever it is that you want.”

Aomine gave one last survey of Kuroko before forcing his mouth against Kuroko’s. It was no better than the last kiss. And somehow, Kuroko didn’t think that they would ever get better. So he closed his eyes and let his mind go to the cold place inside of him that he retreated to when he was doing a job. The world fell away from him and darkness engulfed him. He felt that he was being suffocated by heat and after a while, bursts of pain streaked across the darkness only to be replaced by numbness and loathing. But loathing for himself or Aomine—Kuroko wasn’t sure if he would ever know.


End file.
